I wrote this short story in 2004 in my cramped yet cozy apartment in Lansing (US) during my student days. My notepad and my pen used to be my only companions those days (before Guitar joined up!) The plot is based in the Kashmir valley. My father was kind enough to offer his editing advice.
ABOUT SIX MONTHS AGO a strange incident occurred, which I am about to...

Inspired by Billy Joel’s song “Pianoman” – I tried to recreate the scene and focus only on the old man while taking out the other elements of the original song. I wrote this (revival) version last Summer in Sitla Village, Uttarakhand and finally gave it a shot on my Acoustic Guitar and Harmonica yesterday (Saturday!).
Thanks for...

During my train Journey back to Uttarakhand this week, a lot of things went through my mind as I watched different shades of life zip by from my window; children playing in villages, anxious passengers waiting for their train, indifferent cows grazing without a care, women working in the fields, and so on..
Written & Composed on 11 September 2013
Sitla Village,...

Changed strings on my beat up Steel Guitar today and went on a long long Journey while trying to sing this song. My final recording for a while before my next project. An old buddy Justin introduced this song (by Bob Schneider) to me back in 2006, and the song hit me today and I left the recorder on to capture the session.
Lyrics:
The year is 2002
I’m doing...

I dedicate this song as a tribute to the 23 yr old girl we all came to know as Amanat, Nirabhya (Nirbhaya), Damini, Indian Braveheart who left this earth today on 29th Dec, 2012 after staging a brave 13 day fight against all odds. Sadly, in the end the beastly Injuries her tormentors unleashed on her – got the best of her. Her physical trauma is over and...

My rendition of an original song written and composed by Steve Hunter from UK. He was kind enough to send me the lyrics and permission to do a cover of this song.
I dedicate this song to the 23 yr old Girl from Dehra Dun who’s fighting to survive in Safdarjung Hospital, Delhi right now..
Lyrics:
Somebody said something to me
Believe nothing that you hear and...

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The last puff of the day-wind brought from the unseen villages the scent of damp wood smoke, hot cakes, dripping undergrowth, and rotting pine-cones. That smell is the true smell of the Himalayas, and if it once gets into the blood of a man he will, at the last, forgetting everything else, return to the Hills to die. - Rudyard KiplingAll Original work on this site is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.